


Ambivalence

by 64K



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Angst, Canon Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Other, just two villains in love, some of the chapters were first posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64K/pseuds/64K
Summary: Envy had never imagined that they would feel anything other than disgust for a human being. But Solf J. Kimblee isn’t a typical human by any stretch of the imagination.Kimvy short stories and drabbles based in the canon universe, canon derivative AUs, domestic!AU, and various other more adventurous AUs. Written in no particular order.





	1. Truth Be Told

“Did you use Ishvalans to make this, Envy?”  
  
Envy’s mouth twisted upwards with a dark sort of glee, all the while keeping their eyes on the road ahead. “Nah. We used the researchers that helped Doctor Marcoh for this one.”  
  
  
Kimblee’s face darkened in that way that only he was capable of, a smile spreading its way gradually across his face. “Your cruelty is infinite.” And Envy could tell that he meant it in the best possible way.  
  
They glowered happily together for a long while, neither saying a word. They could understand each other’s excitement, and that was enough. Envy maneuvered skillfully through the busy traffic of Central at four o’clock, and Kimblee stared through the window.  
  
Envy chuckled to themselves. In the few backwards glances that they could afford when the car was forced to stop, they could see Kimblee’s wide eyes as he surveyed the world around him, seeing it for the first time in more than five years. The alchemist looked as though he would like to press his hands to the windows and lean against it to get a better look, and was only restraining himself because of his odd sense of decorum. It was rather amusing.  
  
“We’ll be at your place soon,” said Envy eventually, reluctantly breaking the cordial silence. “Although I hope that you won’t be staying there much, what with chasing Scar and Dr. Marcoh. It’s nothing too fancy- just a small apartment, but I think you’ll like it well enough.”  
  
Kimblee turned away from the window, smiling pleasantly into the rear-view mirror. “As long as it has a bed and some heating, I’ll be happy.”  
  
Poor guy. Envy didn’t have much sympathy for humans, but Kimblee had been rotting away in a cell for years as a part of Father’s plan. He deserved better than that, at least in Envy’s opinion.  
  
They pulled up at the building: a red-brick monstrosity, criss-crossed with twisted black iron stairs. “Your apartment is number ten,” said Envy, handing a key to Kimblee.  
  
“Thank you.” The alchemist opened the door, heading for the stairs. Envy watched him go up the stairs, one at a time…  
  
“Hey wait!”  
  
Kimblee looked down, arm hanging over the railing. “Yes?”  
  
Envy desperately thought of something to say- why had they shouted out? “... You’re supposed to meet with Bradley’s intelligence team tomorrow afternoon.”  
  
Kimblee grinned. “I missed you too, Envy.” And without a word, he went up the stairs, vanishing through the door.  
  
That wasn’t what they meant to say- but the truth didn’t need to be spoken, it seemed. Kimblee already knew what they meant, and Envy let a half-smile cross their face, knowing that the Crimson Lotus was the only one who would ever have that pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve only recently gotten into Fullmetal Alchemist, and I’m already Kimvy trash. Of course, my FMA OTP had to be the rarest of pairs, and, as a result, I found myself having to write stuff for them just to satisfy my want for content about these two. I hope that I’m helping some other poor soul as well as just writing for myself.  
>   
> Just to clear some things up: this isn’t meant as yaoi. Envy is canonically an androgynous character in FMA: Brotherhood and in the manga, which is what these stories are based off of. Therefore, I’m calling Envy a “they."  
>   
> I’m going to try and write two hundred of these, based off of a list of prompts found here: http://kiwii-marshmallow.deviantart.com/art/100-Prompt-Couples-Challenge-188984637  
>   
> It’s a list of one hundred prompts, and I’ll be writing each one twice: one taking place in the Brotherhood/mangaverse, and one in my own silly domestic! AU (because I want to write cute stuff for these evil trash cans). Envy will still be androgynous there, but probably leans a little closer towards the female side than in the normal universe because of my own personal headcanons.  
>   
> (Edit: I'm not going to strictly follow these prompts anymore; "Ambivalence" is now going to be the place where I post things that are too short/insubstantial to post on their own. I may still follow the prompts sometimes, but I've been stuck on them for awhile now and I want to be able to update this more often)
> 
> In any case, I hope that you enjoy these. Thank you for reading!


	2. Cold

“Man, I thought that the desert was supposed to be hot!”  
  
“Not at night.” Kimblee sent a bemused smile towards Envy, who sat beside the fire, hugging their knees. “Maybe you would be warmer if you wore something decent.”  
  
“This is decent, stupid,” muttered Envy, nonetheless examining their outfit with a critical eye. The black skirt… thing. The ‘crop top.’ Were they tacky?  
  
Greed always thought so. But what he said hardly mattered.  
  
And maybe they were indecent. But that was at least partially intentional. Envy always enjoyed making people feel uncomfortable with themselves, and making people feel hot and bothered about a monster of uncertain gender was quite amusing. Base desires like that were just another reason why humans were foolish, worthless creatures.  
  
They’d never felt embarrassed about their clothing before, and Solf J. Kimblee wasn’t about to change that fact.  
  
“You really must be cold,” said Kimblee. “You’re shivering.”  
  
“I’m not,” said Envy. It was difficult to hide the animosity that was creeping into their voice. How dare this man try to tell them something about themselves, when they themselves knew otherwise? They weren’t cold in the least… why had they even mentioned the temperature…  
  
Something coarse, dirty and warm was draped around them, and two bony hands rested on their shoulders. “Ah, well, you’re colder than I am, at least.”  
  
Envy, despite themselves, pulled the flowing coat around their frame. “I don’t need this,” they said sullenly, but making no move to return the item to its owner.  
  
“Keep it,” said Kimblee, amusement in his eyes. “The only gift that I’ve ever given to anybody.”  
  
Something was definitely wrong with this man. “Well, I will then,” said Envy, eyeing the young man suspiciously. “But only ‘cause I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”  
  
“I don’t have any feelings to be hurt,” smiled the alchemist. “Now, keep watch for Ishvalan rogues like you’re supposed to.”  
  
“You too, Crimson.” And they stared out into the desert night, keeping watch over both the camp of Amestrians and over their racing thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is otherwise known as "how Envy got their coat."  
> I headcanon that Envy and Kimblee were pals, among other things, during the Ishval war. Envy was normally disguised as either their soldier form seen in Brotherhood, or as a female soldier- whichever was more convenient. But we all know how Envy thinks that their default form is cute, so that's the form that they take whenever they get the chance. We see Envy in the manga and in the third opening to Brotherhood sometimes wearing a coat that looks like the ones the Amestrian soldiers wore during the Ishval war, so I imagine that Kimblee gave it to them.  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Name

“Livia. Hey, Livia!”  
  
Envy blinked, focusing in on the speaker. “Oh, sorry, Hughes,” they said, adding a feminine giggle at the end of their phrase. “Must have been daydreaming.”  
  
Hughes smiled. “Better get out of that habit before you’re actually posted somewhere, kid. There’s no room for daydreamers in the military, at least if you want to advance at all.”  
  
“You’re right.” Envy brushed back a loose strand of hair, tucking it behind their ear. They- or ‘she,’ at the moment- had picked a body that was not all that different from their usual form (after all, the way that they normally looked was cute as all get out, and they didn’t enjoy staying in any other form for long), but it was still frustrating dealing with certain aspects of this form… such as unwanted attention from many of the men at the academy.  
  
At least they didn’t need to deal with any harassment with Hughes, which was the reason why they chose to sit with him. The annoyance of listening to him ramble about his girlfriend back home was a small price to pay to avoid blowing their cover and killing some fool who dared to take a pass at them.  
  
“Made any friends yet?” Hughes asked, smiling kindly in Envy’s direction.  
  
Honestly, no. The few ‘friends’ that Envy had made, including Hughes, had been for practical purposes only. Most of the time, Envy had been trying to seek out the attention of the alchemists among the soldiers, sucking up to them whenever possible, trying to figure out who was worth trusting.  
  
One lucky alchemist would be given the Philosopher’s stone. Envy just hadn’t decided which one yet.  
  
“Eh, not really. I’m kind of shy,” said Envy, staring down at their plate.  
  
“Well, we can’t have that!” Hughes glanced around the cafeteria, his eyes falling on anyone who looked remotely lonely or, at least, who was standing by themselves. His gaze finally rested on a thin young man who sat alone in the corner of the room. “Hey, Kimblee, come over here!”  
  
The man eyed them warily, then slowly approached them. “May I help you, Hughes?”  
  
“Just wanted to introduce you to someone,” said Hughes. “Livia, this is Solf J. Kimblee- he’s a second year- and at the head of his class, I might add.”  
  
Envy struggled to hold in a giggle- they’d never heard such a pretentious name in all their life.  
  
“...first year, and she’s having trouble making friends,” Hughes was saying to a clearly uncomfortable (at least to Envy’s eyes) Kimblee.  
  
“I”m pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Kimblee, lips tight in a forced smile. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me… I have… somewhere to be…”  
  
Hughes glanced amusedly after Kimblee’s retreating figure. “He’s an alchemist, you know,” he said. “Heard it through the grapevine that he’s going to be applying for state certification soon.”  
  
“Oh, really? Doesn’t seem like the type,” said Envy offhandedly, thoughts running through their head. It depended on how capable he was, but Solf J. Kimblee seemed worth pursuing. A withdrawn personality made it more likely that he wouldn’t betray any secrets that he was told- but did he have the nerve to use the Philosopher’s Stone?  
  
“Excuse me, Hughes,” Envy said, pushing back their chair from the table. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”  
  
“Oh. Well, okay, then! See you round, I hope?”  
  
“Um… yeah,” Envy said absently, mind already set on the new task ahead of them. “See you round, Hughes.”  
  
They left the cafeteria behind them and turned down the hall, following the alchemist’s path.  
  
Solf J. Kimblee. Perhaps the man behind that awkward name would be a human weapon up to the homunculi’s standards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel kind of bad using Hughes here… but I really do feel like he would try and be a friend to the shy folks at the Academy, including Envy.  
>   
> Livia is one of the only names out there that actually means “envy,” so that’s why I used it for Envy’s female soldier form. Since I see Envy more on the female side of things, this form is what they will be using most of the time in this story when they’re not in their preferred form. Just imagine fem!soldier!Envy, and that should about do it for how ‘she’ looks.  
>   
> Thank you for reading and, to those who left kudos, I’m really grateful. I’m really glad to know that people are enjoying this story (and maybe the ship might get more people writing for it? Hint hint).  
>   
> Thanks again!


	4. Game

“Get all the ones with scarves on.”  
  
“That’s pretty much all of them. Make it a little trickier for me.”  
  
“Well, okay. Get all the ones with long hair.”  
  
Clap. Boom.  
  
The sound of screaming was cut off by the thunderous roar of an explosion.  
  
“Done. Next?”  
  
Kimblee’s voice was shaking, and Envy looked up at him. The alchemist’s eyes were wide, burning with excitement, and Envy felt a grin spread over their face that matched the one that Kimblee wore.  
  
“You earned a bonus round. Free for all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short this one is! It's been written for a little while, but I didn't want to put it up until I had another longer one to put up with it.  
>   
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Irony

Blue eyes, cold and ghastly, stared through the glass. “Ah. How the mighty have fallen.”  
  
Envy backed against the wall of the jar, eyes bugging out of their face. “How… how did you know it was me?” Their voice was breathless, shaky, and Envy cursed its high pitch- cursed their entire pathetic self.  
  
Kimblee grinned, teeth glinting in the yellow lamplight. “Intuition. I thought that you might look something like this underneath all of your disguises.” He shook his head. “Look at you. A pet for a little girl. Well, we can’t have that.”  
  
Envy followed Kimblee’s glance. Mei Chang lay unmoving against the wall, a thin line of blood trailing down her face from a shallow wound on her forehead. Envy stared at her limp form, unable to suppress an uncomfortable feeling of… something. Mei hadn’t been a friend- no human could be- but they had spent weeks together, and she hadn’t shaken the jar that Envy was kept in, or gloated in any way.  
  
“She’s not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering,” said Kimblee, tilting his head, expression unreadable. “But I’m rather disgusted by you.”  
  
Unsurprising. But it hurt hearing him say that. “Any specific reason why?” Envy asked, voice as level as possible. “You know, aside from how I look. And I can’t really help that, you know.”  
  
“I’m not as shallow as that.” Kimblee tipped the jar towards him, and Envy slid against the glass wall, unable to resist the force of gravity. “I honestly don’t care how you look, or even how you act. I’m disgusted by how you let yourself get to this state.” He stared through Envy, and Envy hated his expression, that disinterested acknowledgement of his power over them.  
  
Snapping back to attention, as if out of a daydream, Kimblee continued where he had left off. “It’s not fitting for a homunculus to be in such a weakened state. I thought that you were the next step in the evolution of humanity? If so, you should have enough pride to keep you from situations like this.”  
  
Envy was at a loss for words-- really, they felt ashamed enough about this situation as it was, and Kimblee’s observations only drove the blade in deeper. “Why…” they began, unable to think of how to finish their question.  
  
Kimblee’s face was expressionless. “You know that you’ve treated me as a pet for as long as we’ve known each other. I think that turnabout is fair play, don’t you?” He tucked the jar underneath his arm. “You’ll be coming with me, I think. She,” he began, indicating Mei with a nod of his head, “is better off without you, anyway.”  
  
They walked away through the dark alleys, for hours, it seemed. Neither made any attempt to talk to each other any further-- Envy doubted that Kimblee would listen to anything that they said at this point.  
  
Eventually, the sway of Kimblee’s steps lulled them into sleep. The last thing that they registered before entering unconsciousness was Kimblee’s voice, humming a seemingly atonal tune. The sound was oddly comforting to Envy, and they only wished that they could hear the song under different circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been trying to come up with a Kimvy longfic idea for a while now, and one idea I had was, “What if Kimblee found worm!Envy, and they went on some wild adventure together?” That idea fell through pretty quickly, but I thought that I’d include bits of it in here.  
>   
> I can’t thank you guys enough for reading- I can’t believe how many have people read this and left kudos. Thank you so much! Also, I’m putting up this chapter at the same time as the previous one, so do look back at chapter four if you missed it. :)  
>   
> Thanks so much once again!


	6. She

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a continuation of chapter three, "Name," in case you need to go back and double-check it. Hope you enjoy!

Someone was actually talking to him. Taking an interest in him.  
  
It had to be a trick. There had to be some ulterior motive.  
  
But even if there was one, it was an interesting experience, and one that he wouldn’t worm his way out of prematurely.  
  
“Hey, so you’re an alchemist, right?” she was saying. Her voice was innocent enough, but something about her pleasant expression was… off, in a way that Kimblee found fascinating.  
  
“Correct,” he said, standing up, lacing his hands together and stretching his arms behind his back. He had answered her question; there was no need to volunteer any further information without prompting.  
  
Livia (that was her name, wasn’t it? Kimblee had never been very good with names, just faces) scowled, standing up as well. Then, suddenly, her face shifted oddly, back into that innocent smile that she had previously worn.  
  
It was unnatural, and very, very intriguing.  
  
“Yeah, so… what kind of alchemy?” she said, tipping her head to the side. Trying to be ‘cute,’ it seemed.  
  
“Explosions, mainly,” said Kimblee, “although I dabble in other areas as well.”  
  
“Cool,” said Livia. Her face held just the right amount of respectful interest. “Explosions.”  
  
“Yes,” said Kimblee, raising an eyebrow. “Are you interested in alchemy?”  
  
“Oh, yes.” Livia kneaded her fingers together, staring down at her hands. “Just a little bit. My dad always liked alchemy, so I always like talking to all of the alchemists that I meet to find out what they specialize in.”  
  
An odd pastime… but not entirely unusual.  
  
“Anyway,” continued Livia. “I just found out my class schedule, and it sounds as if we’ll be sharing most of our classes. The schedule’s up on the wall, if you don’t believe me. So I’ll be seeing you around. Hey, maybe we’ll even be teamed up for some stuff. Who knows?” She turned on her heel, waving casually without looking back. “Anyway, I’ll be seeing you later.”  
  
Kimblee watched her as she walked away. Odd that he should be sharing classes with her, a first-year… unless the rules had suddenly been changed. The rest of the second-years would make a fuss about this, he was sure… after a year spent crawling at the feet of the older students, most of them had been looking forward to being above the newest recruits. This would also mean that any second-years who hadn’t made a name for themselves yet would be subjected to yet another year of hazing…  
  
Of course, that wouldn’t affect Kimblee much. He had a way of staying out of the way of trouble, generally speaking. But it seemed that this year would be a little more chaotic than he had planned on.  
  
Not that that was a bad thing, of course. Chaos was just another word for excitement, in Kimblee’s book, and Kimblee now found himself feeling excited about something that he had previously been apathetic about before.  
  
Maybe this would be an interesting year after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we don't know a whole lot about the Amestris Military Academy, I'm operating under the assumption that it's a four-year program that, if you're really good or if the military is desperate for manpower, you can graduate from in two or three years. Please forgive any military inaccuracies (or supply me with corrections!) I don't know much about the military, so this is mostly just world-building on my part.  
>   
> I just wanted to write cute romantic stuff, and all that these stories have been so far is them snarking at each other. XD I hope that's not too disappointing for you guys; I just want background for everything, so that's my reasoning behind it.  
>   
> Also, I apologize for taking so long with these. I always have this obsession with being ABSOLUTELY PERFECT, and so it takes me forever to work up the nerve to publish something-- and I started writing a Kimvy longfic (which promises to be very long), which has been sucking up some time.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I really appreciate how much support I've gotten for this!


	7. Together (AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always feel so bad about posting just one of these little things at a time... so here's another one-- something a little cuter this time, I hope? And it's the first AU one! Hopefully it's not too out-there. :)

“So… are you and that Kimblee boy an item yet?”  
  
Envy glared towards Barry the Chopper, who stood innocently by the elevator door. “Shut up and do your job, Barry.”  
  
Barry shrugged, shouldering his machine gun. “Sorry, sweetheart. I was just curious. I mean, you drive to work together every day. Doesn’t that count for something?”  
  
Envy sighed, and checked their email for the twentieth time that morning. “We’re saving the environment, Barry. Kimblee and I work both work here, and he can’t drive, so…”  
  
“If you say so, hon.” Barry stared through the window, whistling in a way that Envy found extremely aggravating.  
  
“Barry! Would you _shut_ _up_?”  
  
Heads peered curiously out from behind cubicles, and Envy let their head sink onto their desk with a thud. They’d have a talk with Father. Barry would regret his careless words and actions before long…  
  
Then again, Envy had been responsible for having Barry hired, and Father wouldn’t be happy to hear that Envy had made a mistake.  
  
Envy growled, and checked their email for the twenty-first time that morning.

* * *

  
“Well, you’re in a mood, aren’t you?”  
  
Envy stared resolutely through the windshield, trying deny Kimblee the gratification of seeing them react to his jab. “Not at all.”  
  
Kimblee sighed, leaning his head against the back of the seat. “Rough day? It was for me too, actually. Marcoh had another breakdown, and I was the only one around to comfort the poor soul. Of course, _I_ could do nothing for him, so I eventually told him to go home early. I hope that was alright.”  
  
“Aw, whatever,” said Envy contemptuously. “He can go to Drachma for all I care.”  
  
“Interesting euphemism,” said Kimblee, raising an eyebrow. “You’re getting more creative. But I thought that you liked him… as much as you like anyone, that is.”  
  
Envy grunted, and Kimblee stared out of the window, his usual response to Envy’s irritable reactions. “In any case, I have an early meeting tomorrow,” he said, watching the evening traffic swarm through the streets. “So you don’t have to bring me. I think I’ll walk.”  
  
“Hah!” Envy rolled their eyes, and spun the wheel, turning the corner towards Kimblee’s apartment. “You’d get hit by a car or break your ankle or something. I’ll drive you, don’t worry.”  
  
They said it jokingly, but really… if something like that happened, no one but Envy would care. And maybe Barry, but only because his favourite source of workplace gossip would have some fuel added to the fire.  
  
It was better to prevent those sorts of things from happening in the first place.  
  
Kimblee turned towards Envy, raising an eyebrow. “I always used to walk, and nothing like that happened. But I won’t turn down your offer, although I must warn you that it’s at seven-thirty am. In case that changes your mind.”  
  
“Come on,” groaned Envy, parking the car. “My word is my bond, okay? I’ll be here.”  
  
Kimblee smiled, ever so slightly. “Well, thank you, then.” He stepped out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” said Envy. They shook their head. “Bright and early.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is basically the beginning of the domestic! AU that I've been promising in the tags all this time... I hope it didn't disappoint. Sometimes, I get stuck writing for these guys in the canon (or slightly-off-from-canon) universe, and sometimes I sink into the murky mire of this AU. Anyway, I hope this was enjoyable; thank you for reading!


	8. Strength (Superhero AU)

“What do you think, Envy?”  
  
Kimblee held out his hands, revealing the arrays tattooed on his palms. He was immensely proud of them; of course, these were only a prototype-- these were only temporary: something to work out the bugs in his plan. But still, he’d spent months on creating these, refining their design thousands of times.  
  
Envy traced one of the tattoos with a finger, staring at them bemusedly. “Didn’t think you were the type, Crimson. Although the design’s pretty.” They chuckled. “What’s next? A butterfly on your neck?”  
  
Kimblee raised an eyebrow-- Envy obviously hadn’t understood the purpose of his months of work. “They’re not a fashion statement,” he said. “These are arrays that I’ve designed. When I clap them together, the two combine and form an explosive reaction that I can use as a weapon.”  
  
Envy shook their head, still chuckling, flopping down onto the couch. “That’s cute. But you don’t need a weapon when you’ve got me-- Invidia, the city’s--”  
  
“--most wondrous, most magnificent, most glorious hero,” finished Kimblee, saying the words in a sing-song tone. He sat down next to Envy’s head on the tiny section of couch left uncovered by their sprawling body. “A hero that hurts themselves so often and so carelessly that they need my services almost constantly.” He looked down on Envy, slowly running a hand through their hair. “I really can’t rely on you, m’dear. Self-reliance is key.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Envy stared up at the ceiling. “Speaking of… got anything for me?”  
  
He should have known that it wouldn’t take them long to get to business. “Just a Stone,” he said, pulling the glittering red object from his pocket. “Don’t use it all in one place, please; I do worry about you hurting yourself beyond recovery. They’re getting harder to make, but I’ve made the formula more efficient at least.”  
  
Envy didn’t move from where they lay, reaching behind their head for the Stone. Kimblee let them fumble about without success for a minute or so, then relented, slipping the Stone into Envy’s hand.  
  
Envy held the stone up the light, turning it, letting the light pass through and dapple the room with broken shards of colour. “Good. This is good. You’re amazing.”  
  
Kimblee smirked, but shrugged with as much modesty as he could muster. “I try my very best.”  
  
Envy slid off of the couch. “You never fail me, Crimson. I’ll tell Father to give you a raise, or something…”  
  
“Oh, no, no,” said Kimblee, looking down, adjusting his tie. “The pleasure is all mine. But I need to apply it--”  
  
Well, drat. They’d already left, the air-headed thing-- and left the door open, too! Ah well; they would be back soon; they wouldn’t get far without having that Stone added to their strength.  
  
Really, though, he didn’t need a raise or anything of the kind-- although he could, of course, make good use of any extra resources that he was given. Envy’s approval was the greatest reward that he could ask for-- and their condescension the most severe punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm... the beginning of a Superhero AU? Kind of? This was originally pretty Spider-Man inspired, where Envy was essentially Spidey and Kimblee was M.J, all because I had the idea of Kimblee and Envy in an office setting, with Kimblee raving about how this superhero had saved him yet again, and how they were the most amazing thing, and Envy is gritting their teeth the whole time trying to keep from letting their secret identity be known... but Kimblee has wound up being the sidekick/scientist "friend" instead.
> 
> I stole the name "Invidia" from a Kimvy fic called "Many Kinds of Monsters;" (which I didn't read much of- it, unfortunately for me, got very smutty very fast and I can't really handle that...) it's the Latin word used to refer to the concept of envy in Catholic Christianity, as well as the Roman name for the Greek goddess Nemesis. I really like that name for Envy, and thought that it would make a neat superhero name.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	9. Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning for referenced implied dub-con, and for excessive sappiness.

He was so beautiful when he was sleeping.  
  
Envy would never admit it while he was awake (and would only admit it to themselves when he slept). Kimblee would surely mock them for saying something like that.  
  
_Flattery will get you nowhere, Envy. Really, what do you take me for?_  
  
They had the key to his apartment, and they had gone in. Just to take a look, nothing more. After all, it had been their suggestion to use Kimblee for this job, and, if something was to happen to him, they would have Father to answer to.  
  
It was all a part of Envy’s job-- to make sure that everything was in working order.  
  
From where they stood, at the foot of Kimblee’s bed, Envy glanced around the apartment, taking in the details far more fondly than they were usually inclined to. The sparse furniture was immaculately arranged, even after only a day or so of Kimblee staying here, and Envy smiled, knowing how fond Kimblee was of arranging things just so. Everything perfectly lined up, as colour-coordinated as possible.  
  
They slowly, carefully, sat down on the edge of the bed, taking the greatest care to keep the springs in the mattress from creaking. He’d most definitely be upset to see them there if he woke up.  
  
Envy noticed, with some discomfort, that Kimblee’s shoulders were narrower than they remembered, lacking in the muscle that they had during Ishval. The thought occurred to them, for the first time, that perhaps he wasn’t as strong as they had thought. But still, defeating Scar would be nothing to him, as would be capturing Dr. Marcoh.  
  
Envy was a good judge of that sort of thing.  
  
Kimblee’s chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, one that Envy found easy to watch, and to listen to. But there was an odd hitch here and there in the pattern, so that every time Envy got comfortable, a not-quite-a-cough would startle them out of their reverie.  
  
Envy wished that they could have avoided imprisoning him. Wrath, with his knowledge of the human world, insisted that they couldn’t just let him get off scot-free after killing five officers. There would be a disturbance, and it was easier this way. And Kimblee hadn’t been… angry, Envy supposed. It’s not as if he had enjoyed being in prison, but he had been content to wait. Just another testament to his loyalty and consistency.  
  
They would have liked to keep him around, though. He would have been… useful. Dependable. Would always do his job, no matter how unpleasant. Always good for a conversation, for a debate, for...  
  
Envy slowly lay down, facing the wall, pulling their knees to their chest. They could feel heat emanating from the body beside them-- nearly imperceptible, but it was there. They weren’t used to that feeling, and they weren’t sure if they disliked it or not. They used to do this sort of thing with their siblings, sometimes, when they were younger, and maybe more carefree… but then Greed ran away, and Lust got tired of Envy’s “immaturity,” and Envy realized that she was right, that it was better to keep your distance from other people, and learn to rely only on yourself…  
  
And then they’d done it as a part of their job (they had replaced many husbands and wives over the years, after all), and they _hated_ that-- having some filthy human touch you, act like you were their possession, and they couldn’t do anything but go along with it, all for the sake of learning something to bring back to Father.  
  
But it was sort of nice to stay like this, with Kimblee’s even breaths warming the back of their neck, consistent, even, always there. He wasn’t touching Envy in the slightest; they were in complete control, unlike those other times.  
  
They’d stay here, on the very edge, just for a little while… Kimblee would never know, and, even if he did, what could he do?  
  
Never if he was awake. No, no, no… and hardly even when he was asleep. They were this close to getting up and leaving-- their job was done; he was fine, and perfectly ready to go out and fight and do his job… but they couldn’t leave just yet, so abruptly and suddenly… they’d just rest here, just for a little while.  
  
_“I… I guess I missed you… a little more than I thought I would… Crimson Lotus…”_

* * *

 

...how long had they been asleep?

  
They couldn’t see the clock-- it could have been hours, or mere minutes, but regardless, they had edged too close to the center of the bed for their liking, almost touching... But they couldn’t just jump up, run away, escape… what if he woke up? What if he was already awake?  
  
Envy rolled over, as slowly and quietly as they could, looking at their alchemist. His eyes were still closed-- thank goodness for that-- long black lashes against pale, pale skin, and that constant in and out breathing continued on as it had before.  
  
Beauty, consistency, moral code. All foolish, fragile human traits, things that Envy had no need of, because they were things that humans possessed. But all of those traits managed to manifest themselves in Kimblee in the best (worst?) possible ways, so much that Envy actually had missed them…  
  
He was a rarity, this man, and the only one, ever, in almost two hundred years, that Envy would ever consider...  
  
Now or never. They’d never get the nerve again.  
  
Envy kissed him ( _please don’t wake up, please please please_ ) very softly (and they barely knew how to do _that_ ; in all their years of disguises they’d never _wanted_ to kiss somebody before; they _hated_ that kind of human expression), so that he would not wake up.  
  
And they’d never do it again, because they could only do this sort of thing while he was asleep-- never when he was awake.  
  
Envy drew back, slowly, face burning, breathing shakily, waiting to see if Kimblee would react. They thought that they saw Kimblee smile… but that, surely, was just their imagination.  
  
But, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he did notice. He’d never tell anybody, and they’d go back to their lovely awkward relationship as if nothing had ever happened.  
  
The beauty of consistency.  
  
Of Kimblee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you like this garbage that also happens to be my magnum opus? (Seriously, I've been working for so long on this one, and I've only just broken through!) It's the first one that is super shippy, I think, although I've of course been trying to portray the ship all along. I'm still not entirely happy... Envy's far too sappy here. But I wanted them to have to confront some inner barriers that they've built up over the years (and, in some ways, this was kind of therapeutic to write, as I have my own intimacy repulsion to deal with that I wind up impressing onto Kimblee and Envy...)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading; I just can't believe how many people have read this and left kudos. 
> 
> Thanks so much, once again!


	10. Memory's Mystic Band

Memory’s Mystic Band

“And then what happened?”

Envy’s voice, quiet as it was, broke the spell of silence. Kimblee closed the book, setting it beside him. He got up from his chair, stretching, and stood before the fire. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow night to find out,” he said, smiling down towards the couch.

The nerve. “There isn’t going to be a tomorrow night,” said Envy, smugly enunciating into the couch cushion. “You have a job to do, Crimson Lotus. I hope that–”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Kimblee said lightly. He paced across the narrow apartment, around the coffee table and behind the couch. “I assure you that I won’t be able to rest until the job is done.”

“Then what do you call this, huh?” Envy gestured vaguely towards the book resting on the chairside table. “‘Storytime?’”

“You wanted to be entertained.” Kimblee leaned over the back of the couch, smiling fondly. “Or, at least, I thought you did. Perhaps I was mistaken. You might as well leave right now, so that I can get to work–”

“Wait, wait, hold the phone!” Envy flipped onto their back, looking up. “I never said that I didn’t want to be entertained. Not much work that you can do at night, anyway.”

“My point exactly.” Kimblee sat back down, crossing his legs. “Well then. In what way do you want to be entertained?”

Envy scowled up from the pillow. “You know how. Keep reading, Crimson.”  
“Ah, but I thought that you didn’t like this sort of thing,” said Kimblee, picking up the dog-eared book. “I thought that human works of art were worthless.”

“That was seven years ago,” said Envy carelessly. “A lot has changed.”

They weren’t going to say exactly what had; it was hard them to put a finger on the reason, actually. But Kimblee knew better than to push Envy further– at least, that’s what they hoped.

Kimblee only chuckled. “So mysterious,” he said. “But it is funny that you would find fairy tales so enjoyable.”

Fairy tales… was that what they were?

Lust hadn’t said what kinds of stories they were. But she had always known so many…

Those were some of the memories that Envy liked best: when Lust would come home from one of her liaisons, and somehow, she and Envy and Greed and, for those last couple of years, Gluttony too, would all pile together and listen to her stories. Things that she’d read in human libraries… she’d always loved to read…

“Read, now,” Envy snapped, flipping back onto their stomach. “I don’t see why I have to tell you twice.”

“No need to be so harsh.” Kimblee raised an eyebrow, but picked up the book nonetheless, leafing through the pages. “There had better be no interruptions, in any case.”

It had always been sort of funny, hearing about mermaids and fairies and things in these stories. After all, they were mythical creatures, full of mystery and magic, and Envy was something like that. They’d always listened to Lust’s lilting voice with what they imagined was a sort of distance, imagining what it would be like to be a simple-minded human, hearing these stories that were far beyond mortal understanding. They’d listened with a sense of superiority– after all, there was no siren more beautiful than Lust. There was no dreadful end for naughty children that was more terrifying than Pride’s shadowy arms choking the life-breath out of you. There was no old hag that was more horrifying than–

* * *

 

 

_“Would you just stop, Greed.” It wasn’t even a question at this point, just a quiet statement of defeat._

_Greed shrugged casually, leaning back against the wall. “Don’t try to paint me as the bad guy, kid. I’m just trying to help you. There’s lots of ways for you to be a little more–”_

_“I am well aware that there’s things that you don’t like about me.” Envy drew out the words with a sigh, arms hugging their own body as tightly as possible. “But you don’t always have to point them–”_

_“Guys.” Greed and Envy looked up from where they sat on the concrete floor. It was Lust, her skirt swishing gracefully around her legs as she walked towards them. “Do you have to make so much noise?” She sat between them, forcing an end to their quarrel. “I managed to make it to the library again today,” she said conversationally, withdrawing a small tome from within her jacket. “If you two will quiet down, I’ll consider reading this to you.”_

_They knew how to read, the both of them, but there was really nothing like hearing Lust’s quiet, smooth voice reading those pages. Envy looked questioningly towards Greed– they had no desire to continue the fight anyway. Greed’s eyes were unreadable for one moment, and then he shrugged. “Well, why not? But it had better be a new one.”_

_It was quiet for one moment, as Lust opened the book. “All in the golden afternoon,” she began softly, turning the delicate pages, “Full leisurely we glide…”_

_As she continued, Envy slowly leaned, bit by bit, against Lust, head against her shoulder. They… wouldn’t do that with anybody else (no one else would accept something like that) but they liked the feeling of her regular breaths, her shoulders rising and falling slowly._

_“For both our oars, with little skill, by little arms are plied.”_

_Greed was quiet too; Envy peered discreetly over Lust to see what he was doing. Their brother rested against the wall, eyes distant. He looked remarkably handsome that way, Envy thought, without his mouth twisted in a sneer and his eyes full of taunting arrogance._

_“While little hands make vain pretense our wanderings to guide.”_

_This was nice._

_It was nice to have peace, and quiet, and a warm feeling, ever so rarely._

* * *

 

But Lust was gone now; she’d never read to them again; she was a cold pile of ash on the floor of Lab 3. Greed lived, but he was different in all of the wrong ways, and any memories of the few good times that they had had together were lost in the void, gone forever.

But the warm feeling hadn’t quite vanished, and the voice continued, but it wasn’t the same. It was somewhat unsure, hesitant,

“Alice! A childish story take, and with a gentle hand, lay it where Childhood’s dreams are twined in Memory’s mystic band.”

They… were somehow beside _him_ now, head against his shoulder (sharp and angular, nothing like _her_ soft shoulder), and his words pressed forward, lacking in feeling or emotion, other than an audible insistence on getting the words _just right_.

How had they…

Disgusting, it was disgusting, and Envy wanted to leap up and run away, but they couldn’t, because the poem wasn’t over yet.

Kimblee could sense their stiffness, it seemed, and pressed on, more mechanically than before. “Like pilgrim’s wither’d wreath of flowers pluck’d in a far-off land.” And then he was silent.

Envy jerked up off of the couch, landing unsteadily on their feet. “I’ve had enough entertainment,” they said, staring towards him.

“Alright,” said Kimblee, face blank. He closed the book. “But I don’t see what I did wrong. I was only reading. You were the one who decided to come and sit beside me.” He shrugged. “It’s, of course, all well and good, to dislike physical contact– I’m not all that fond of it myself– but to seek it out and then get upset at me…”

He just had sounded so much like her, just for a little while…

“I’m not upset,” said Envy, refusing to look him in the eye. “Stop saying that I’m upset, because I’m not.”

“Alright,” said Kimblee. They were both quiet for a long moment. Finally, Kimblee coughed, breaking the silence. “I… didn’t get all that much read, actually; that was only the prologue. So if you would like, I can start the first chapter.” He smiled. “And you can sit wherever you’d like to.”

They wanted to leave– it wasn’t acceptable, really it wasn’t acceptable to have shown such weakness. But home was so cold and lonely right now. It was only Gluttony, who Envy tried to watch out for in the same way that Lust had but they just couldn’t measure up to her, and it was only Greed, who Envy had already failed to make a good new impression on, and it was only Pride, who never had a positive word to say and was absent more often than not. And Father, who… Envy wasn’t sure about.

At least with Kimblee they were admired, appreciated. Not like at home.

Envy shrugged casually, purposefully sitting down on the couch across from Kimblee. “Well, why not. I have nothing else to do. But just a little more.”

Kimblee nodded, cracking the book open once again, flipping a few pages in to begin the first chapter.

Kimblee’s voice, reading the pages of _Alice_ , was more enjoyable to listen to now than it had been before; it wasn’t so similar to Lust’s now, and carried a different tone of its own. The nonsensical human “art” that he read almost sounded profound.

Envy stared up at the ceiling, and decided that, if Kimblee wanted to, they’d let him read all night. There was no sense in rushing off before the story was told, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based off of a prompt sent to me on tumblr requesting a book/library theme. It kind of veered off-course... I sort of wanted to show Envy's want for affection, both familial/platonic and perhaps romantic as well, and the way that the two types of love could easily be confused to someone who doesn't get either very often. I also have a soft spot for Kimblee/Lust comparisons... I have an AU idea in my head burning away in which Kimblee becomes the new Lust. I'll probably never write it, but I think that they have similar personalities, and it's fun to draw parallels between them.
> 
> Also, I've changed up the premise of "Ambivalence" a little bit; now I'm just putting all of my Kimvy stories that don't fit anywhere else in this collection, rather than strictly following the prompts like I said that I would do. They wound up inhibiting my creativity, I think, instead of helping it, so I'm just going to move along from that idea and write what inspires me.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	11. Cupid Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and here's a more light-hearted modern!AU one. Who ever said that I'm incapable of writing anything happy (I did. But I try to write happier things once in awhile...)

“You say anything, and you’re walking home.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Kimblee took a sip from his coffee cup, shrugging. Envy watched incredulously– how did he manage to drink that stuff with such enthusiasm? Not to mention that Miles had just brought it over; it must be scalding hot.

“Why are you staring?”

Envy blinked. They hadn’t meant… “I’m not,” they said, a little more defensively than they should have. “I just… don’t know why you like that stuff.”

“It wakes me up,” said Kimblee with a smile. “Does it need another purpose?”

“Well, yeah.” Envy rolled their eyes. “Isn’t taste a factor?”

“Perhaps to you,” said Kimblee, casting a judging eye on Envy’s mug. “But I suppose that I drink mine with a more… practical purpose in mind.”

… there wasn’t anything wrong with what they were drinking. But he still wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

“Don’t tell anyone,” said Envy, wrapping their hands protectively around their coffee cup. “And don’t talk about it.”

“I wasn’t,” said Kimblee. “It’s just cute.”

The whipped cream was starting to melt away… but Envy didn’t really want to drink it in front of Kimblee after all… wait, what? “What’s cute?” they said contemptuously, swallowing their pride and taking a swig of coffee. No sense in letting Kimblee ruin their drink.

“You,” said Kimblee, chin in his hand, elbow on the table. He idly stirred his coffee with his free hand (which he really didn’t need to do; it was black, after all). “It’s so silly. You act so horribly and harshly, and yet you enjoy sappy, sweet things like… whatever whipped-cream monstrosity you’re drinking right now. It’s not very fitting, but… I think it’s very amusing,” he ended with a smile. “I do love ironies.”

“Shut up,” said Envy, a response that was somehow becoming more and more frequent lately. They wiped the whipped-cream from their mouth with their sleeve (a very Tough, Not-Cute gesture that proved that they just didn’t give a care about appearances– it’s unfortunate that it would need dry-cleaning, though). “It’s just what I like. There’s nothing deep behind it.”

Kimblee shrugged. “I’m only making observations, my dear.”

They could never tell if he meant that nickname sincerely or not… best to ignore it.

“Do I have to walk home?” Kimblee asked, steepling his fingers. He glanced off to the side, his expression almost mournful. “Of course, I’m sure that I could use the exercise, so perhaps–”

“Nah,” said Envy. They swallowed the last of their double-cream, double-sugar, double-everything-with-whipped-cream coffee. “You’re too pathetic to walk for two hours. I’d be giving you a death sentence.”

“Glad to see that you think so highly of me.” Kimblee got up from the table. “In that case, dear friend, perhaps we’d best be going? We have five minutes before rush hour begins in earnest.”

“I guess.” Envy got up from the table, making no attempt to clean up the mess that they’d left behind, leaving their chair askew– after all, they were a nasty, horrible person. No sense in disappointing everybody. But they left a dollar tucked inside one of the crumpled-up napkins. Maybe Miles would find it.

He’d made some pretty good coffee today, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something that came out of nowhere after seeing an OTP prompt on Tumblr, and I thought that I'd have some fun with it. Kimblee's the black coffee drinker, and Envy's the one with an incurable sweet tooth.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	12. Words (part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter are part of a little challenge that I made for myself. I'm following this prompt list (found at http://theimaginesyouneveraskedfor.tumblr.com/post/156605573076/100-drabbleday-challenge) and writing a sentence based on each word in the list. I'm splitting the list between two chapters just to make it easier to read them. Most of the sentences are based in canon-based AUs and were sort of meant to help me brainstorm ideas for the long story that I want to write for Kimvy. There's a couple that are based in a domestic!AU as well, but most are in a canon-ish universe. I hope you enjoy; I had a lot of fun writing these because they really got me working hard on varying the way that I construct sentences. It's probably the most fun writing exercise I've ever done!

_Rain:_

The Underground had such wonderful acoustics, but Kimblee thought that they went to waste in the worst sort of way; there was no way to escape the surround sound of the constant dripping of the rain through the sewer grates, the ripping noise of Gluttony tearing into some poor soul, or the high pitch of Envy laughing (or crying) somewhere that he couldn’t see.

_Midnight:_

The ever-familiar darkness was somehow not quite as bad as it usually was; Kimblee’s arm was a solid tether, keeping Envy somewhere safe, and they weren’t about to let go.

_Aroma:_

Sulfur and iron, blood and tears– neither of them could say that there was any scent that they found more invigorating.

_Crimson:_

It was only his title, but Kimblee always felt a small flash of pride when he heard Envy say it in that lilting way.

_Falling:_

It wasn’t a feeling that he was used to, but the constant demand for a perfect obedience had started to wear him down.

_Breathless:_

It was disgusting– but somehow, the feeling of Kimblee’s arms around them, the awareness of their exhausted breathlessness, and the burning, shining memory of his lips against theirs was somehow not as horrible as Envy had imagined.

_Classic:_

“Für Elise” was rather a cliched little piece, but the way that Envy’s eyes would soften when he played it, and the way that they would quiet down and listen, somehow made Kimblee understand why this piece was so well-loved.

_Desolate_

At the end of the world, the land was empty, desolate, except for their presence– the two of them, quiet and alone, swallowed up in the endless void of empty land and sky.

_Amulet:_

The Stone was special to him; he felt the same sort of affection towards it that a normal person would feel towards a locket from his mother, a handwritten letter from his sister, a favour from his unattainable love…

_Broken:_

He would do better next time; he simply couldn’t disappoint them yet again, and he would forgive them for the bruises on his wrist this time; they obviously had simply overestimated their strength in this one very isolated incident.

_Wilderness:_

It was as though something blocked Envy’s way every time they came close to realizing what made Kimblee an exception to the rule– a sort of pushing and shoving through a dense forest that tripped them and blocked the sun so that they could never come upon the truth.

_Afterlife:_

They didn’t belong in heaven, but they’d wound up here together, and they’d figure out what to do and how to act together.

_Grief:_

Envy looked down at his pale, bleeding, cold body, and laughed because there was no other reaction that made sense at a moment like this.

_Daydream:_

Envy always told the most wonderful stories: tales of ancient Xerxes that were so colourful and imaginative that Kimblee could almost pretend that Envy wasn’t lying through their teeth.

_Frighten:_

“No, no, on the contrary, I think that you look rather… impressive this way– very threatening… and the screaming souls have a rather calming effect.”

_Royal:_

He sometimes couldn’t tell whether he was a loyal servant, the free agent that he wanted to be, or, most perplexing of all, some sort of royal consort.

_Paradise:_

“You’ll live forever in a world that you’ve helped to shape, as long as you do what I say… shouldn’t be a problem, hmm?”

_Break:_

It was sort of nice, looking down together on the bloody plains of Ishval and watching everybody else do the work for once.

_Orphan:_

They’d both scrounged and fought to take care of themselves, ever since they had been born, so there was one similarity, at least.

_Lurk:_

“I’ve always been watching you– oh don’t be like that; you should be happy that I thought a human was worth that much of my time!”

_Echo:_

Kimblee’s words continued to ring through Envy’s head for hours after; the idea that he thought of them as a “disgrace” and as “useless” would probably never leave them alone.

_Temptation:_

He was just a human, but it was so easy (and such an appealing idea) to “forget” that minor detail.

_Bloody:_

Envy always managed to get covered with the stuff, but Kimblee was different; the only time that blood would stain his immaculate white suit was when the blood belonged to him.

_Quill:_

Kimblee would sometimes write music, and Envy would stare in awe at something that they couldn’t quite understand, watching the quill pen move across the paper, marking it up with dots and lines, and then watching him turn those scratches into real music on the piano.

_Embrace:_

The… poor thing… felt so small; he’d rather imagined that they would be more solid and strong, not this tiny nymph-like creature, arms holding him for dear life.

_Steel:_

The spoken word, they both knew, could cut as deeply as the sword— the trick to it was knowing when to wound, and in what way.

_Honey:_

Why did he have to do that; why did he have to press a hasty kiss to their forehead and mumble, “Bye, honey,” as he rushed out of the door— as if they were a _normal_ couple.

_Collide:_

He’d only wanted to watch, but now he was caught in the middle between two opposing worlds, two different points of view that couldn’t quite be reconciled, no matter how hard he tried.

_Betrayed:_

“I hope you realize that I never planned on obeying you completely.”

_Eternal:_

He was fairly sure that not even Envy could last forever; they had no sense of preservation, and one day, something would happen, and they’d be gone, and that would be that.

_Blueberries:_

“C’mon, Crimson; I know that you like explosions and stuff, but when you’re making jam, it’s… supposed to stay in the jar, and not explode all over the wall?”

_Taken:_

That was the nice thing about engagement rings; nobody, not even your Father, could bother you about finding someone nice to settle down with, because you already had found someone (reliable, a good friend, an interesting man, not nice) to do that with.

_Shadow:_

There was no light down here, and Kimblee thought that it was no wonder that Envy was so often in a foul mood, trapped down here in the shadows.

_Ashen:_

Envy, he thought, was awfully quiet, face pale and hands trembling, but they were fine, obviously, because nothing could ever hurt homunculi; he’d taken their word for it.

_Caress:_

An unspoken agreement eventually developed, a quiet idea that it was alright to… touch, resting a hand on the other’s shoulder, brushing a loose strand of hair aside, as long as it was done carefully, with no sudden movements— neither of them was known for reacting well to physical “affection.”

_Timeless:_

“There won’t be any need for time anymore, not after Father completes the plan — we’ll be able to do whatever we like for as long as we want to.”

_Crow:_

That was the main issue with being friendly with a shapeshifter—even if you’re not actually being constantly watched, you can’t help but wonder if the black-feathered bird perched on the roof, staring down at you with gleaming eyes, or the cat on the fence, black and soft, were truly animals, or something far more monstrous.

_Lost:_

In all of his years studying the condition of man, he’d never seen a pair of eyes so filled with unsurety, confusion, loss.

_Fervour:_

He had been given a job, and he was going to carry it out to completion (never mind the blood loss or the blackouts; that didn’t matter in the least), because he’d been given that Stone for a reason— hadn’t he?—and Envy wasn’t a poor judge.

_Alone:_

A thousand years later, after the world had ended, Envy rarely thought about that one human that had been almost an equal; there were so many other things to think about now that Father was God, things that didn’t hurt to think about.

_Daisies:_

It was such a terribly sentimental thing to do, but Envy did look so interesting this way, face flushed pink, eyes sparkling behind an affected glower, hand caressing the daisy that Kimblee had awkwardly tucked behind their ear.

_Treasure:_

He’d gone rather too far into this quest to learn more about these odd creatures, but he couldn’t very well turn back now; he was too close to discovering the next clue that would lead him to the ultimate discovery.

_Primitive:_

Their displays of affection were hardly refined—a sudden move to grab the other’s hand, clumsy attempts to do little favours for each other, all sorry tries at something that neither of them knew how to do or understood the meaning behind.

_Accursed:_

“I am… _disgusting_ … and it doesn’t matter if you say I’m not, because everyone in the whole world knows that’s true… except you, I guess… you idiot.”

_Frail:_

There was a look of despair behind Kimblee’s eyes, and Envy almost regretted saying what they had—but really, this example of his frail pride only showcased how uselessly human he really was.

_Trance:_

Envy could try and try, and they could never snap out of it; it was hypocritical and it was disgusting, but they couldn’t deny that Kimblee was actually interesting, and fun to talk to, and they just couldn’t kill him no matter how much they wanted to.

_Bitter:_

“I really can’t do the things you expect me to when you have no faith in me.”

_Hypnotic:_

His singing voice was calming, though far from operatic, wobbling, slightly pitchy, but sincere, and Envy… didn’t mind hearing it once in awhile.

_Moon:_

The moon was red, and it was both of their fault, all their fault, and it was so wonderful.

_Imperfect:_

“Yes, I agree, humans are far from perfect… but you know that you are far from perfection yourself.”

_Alabaster:_

Flawless perfection was absolutely necessary; it always had been, even before Kimblee had started working for the homunculi, but now his life depended on it.


	13. Words (part two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second and final part of my sentence challenge. Thank you so much for reading!

_Icy:_

Up here in the North, it was colder than Kimblee liked to admit, and Envy's hand against his cheek did nothing to stop the chill in his blood.

_Immaculate:_

Envy was always astounded at how Kimblee's coat stayed so white, despite the explosions, besides the blood and dirt that spattered in arcs across the sky.

_Unbearable:_

It hurt, it hurt, and Envy didn't know what "it" was or why, why it felt like their insides were being ripped apart and being twisted in opposing directions.

_Realm:_

"Yeah, I'll let you be in charge of something, I think; maybe where Central used to be, and you can be the king of that castle."

_Worship:_

It was a hollow feeling, realizing that all that you wanted was his undying allegiance, knowing that you wanted him to revere you, adore you, because nobody else would.

_Burden:_

It was obvious now that he just wasn't fit for the new world order, and that he was only a sentiment that Envy continued to cling to for no logical reason.

_Agog:_

Now that was what excited him–the anticipation of seeing what would happen next was almost too much to bear, and he knew that gaining favour with Envy was the first step of his journey towards that future.

_Harmony:_

Envy's laughter blended with the explosions in such a harmonious way, and Kimblee wished that there was some way of writing the sound on paper, so that he could play it himself in the absence of the real thing.

_Poetry:_

He rattled off his state information–dates, titles, and the like–in a perfectly rhythmic, even way that Envy almost found hypnotic despite the blank look on the alchemist's face.

_Heartless:_

They weren't incapable of love; neither of them were broken by any means, but there was really no reason to be weak and merciful and soft, and they found solidarity in each other through that notion.

_Scream:_

Kimblee fell asleep that night in Envy's shadow, lulled by the sound of ten thousand souls crying out for mercy.

_Written:_

He tried to write it out, to make sense of his thoughts, but somehow, for the first time in his life, was strapped for words, unable to eloquently explain the swimming colours in his brain, to explain why he felt the way that he did.

_Silver:_

The moonbeams peeped in down through the grates in the roof, and Kimblee watched them with interest, wondering how often the homunculi were able to go up and admire the night sky, or whether they were bound to remain down here with their Father for all time.

_Blinded:_

Why couldn't the others see–Kimblee wasn't their  _pet_  or anything of the kind, no, no, he was their close associate, somebody to order around and make use of, and nothing other than that.

_Spectre:_

There were no ghosts of the past for either of them–at least, none that they would admit to.

_Stoic:_

Kimblee could be at death's door and he wouldn't complain; he would only laugh, or, at his worst, wouldn't make any noise at all, and Envy half wished that they had that sort of stoicism, and half wondered what had driven that habit into the human.

_Mist:_

Envy would drive him to work every morning, and they'd follow that same routine path through the morning fog, going to the same place, following the same route, in comfortable silence together.

_Brooding:_

Envy could see Kimblee's dark look in the rearview mirror, and laughed quietly to themselves, because it was so funny to see how much the fact that one Ishvalan had survived his "work" affected him.

_Elusive:_

He'd get so close to actually  _getting_ somewhere with Envy, so close to finding another way to understand how their mind really worked, and then they'd put up yet another barrier, getting angry, pulling away, telling obvious blatant lies that he was unable to counter regardless.

_Unkempt:_

Braiding, it seemed, was yet another one of Kimblee's hidden talents, and Envy mock-grudgingly let him play with their hair, the carefree tangles being tamed by Kimblee's careful fingers, and plaiting them into something personal that Envy wouldn't have thought to shift on their own.

_Chaste:_

It felt good to sit here with him, warm and quiet, with their head on his shoulder, half-asleep and knowing that he would stay here and wouldn't leave them behind, or do anything that they wouldn't want, and that they were both at this comfortable point with each other that neither had ever attained with anyone else before…

_Delirious:_

Kimblee didn't like it at all, because it was a thought that he couldn't control, and he was quietly panicking, and he  _must_  be ill because otherwise he would be able to control his thoughts, wouldn't he…?

_Confess:_

"Envy, I have to say that… it's not… it's not just a matter of observation for me anymore."

_Flawed:_

Envy's worldview was horribly inconsistent, and it drove Kimblee mad to think of the thousands of contradictions and hypocrisies that Envy nonchalantly shrugged aside ("Well, you're not an  _ordinary_ human," et cetera ad infinitum).

_Enraptured:_

Now, really, he didn't have to react  _that_  positively–but Envy couldn't help but feel flattered, as Kimblee stared wide-eyed, grinning broadly up towards the huge monstrosity that was Envy's most despised form.

_Buried:_

Envy hated it, but the growing realization that Kimblee was  _important_  to them was growing  more and more difficult to subdue.

_Battle:_

In the few rare, very rare moments when they could actually agree on something and have a plan of action, they were an unstoppable team, and no Ishvalan warrior or no gun from Aerugo could put a scratch on either of them.

_Orchid:_

The old rhyme for babies meant nothing at all, but Envy viciously ripped petal after petal from flower after flower—one of them would surely tell Envy what they wanted to hear.

_Grandiose:_

Xerxes, which Envy knew _all about_  and where they had  _apparently_  lived, seemed incredibly ancient, foreign and colossal, although Kimblee had no doubt that Envy’s fantastic tales were fabricated.

_Hidden:_

It didn’t matter what they shifted to: as soon as Kimblee had gotten a look at their eyes he could somehow always tell that it was them in disguise, and those “Is it Envy?” guessing games had stopped being funny for Envy ages ago.

_Wicked:_

“You have to see that I’m a heretic, while you’re repulsive in an inhuman, monstrous way—there’s a difference, dear.”

_Trial:_

“One mistake and that’s it—Father only likes perfect beings, after all, and amusing as you are, I’m not convinced that you’re all that.”

_Staggering:_

The difference between what he saw now and what he remembered was astounding, and Kimblee could only look with horror at the thing shivering in the jar in his hand (horror towards the creature, or was it towards himself for ever having admired such a thing?)

_Passion:_

It was almost a pity, Envy thought carelessly, that nothing that they could do could ever have the same effect on their alchemist as that accursed Stone.

_Forest:_

He was… blinded, as hard as it was to admit as much, but, forced as he was to go through Envy for most of his information, it was nearly impossible to separate the image of that grinning figure from the larger goings-on of this conspiracy.

_Beguile:_

Envy  _had_  to smile in that deceptively innocent way,  _had_  to stand just so that the wind brushed their hair just barely against Kimblee’s face, _had_ to tell all of their ridiculous tales in that voice, and they knew perfectly well what they were doing, of the way that they were trying to rob him of his rationality, he was sure of it.

_Whisper:_

“I hate you… _so_ much…” Envy choked out in a whisper, not knowing whether the words were true or false, or somewhere in between.

_Placid:_

Envy hated his calm, logical responses to their every complaint, and the way that he would just  _stare_  when he didn’t approve of what they said, and… and the way that he would sit there, unmoving, and put an arm around them and just _listen_ as they cried into his shoulder.

_Glove:_

One hand reached tentatively for the other, and the other silently accepted the gesture, and the fingers of both hands, bloodstained and guilty, intertwined, and it was remarkable how well two hands of such different sizes and strengths fit together…

_Leave:_

Envy had made their stance clear, and Kimblee refused to stay where he wasn’t wanted.

_Sky:_

“I love sunsets—that sky just brings back so many memories, doesn’t it?”

_Necklace:_

“I’m only wearing it because Lust insisted on it, so don’t feel special, Crimson,” Envy muttered, rolling their eyes, fingers playing at the thin silver chain, and managing to somehow look adorable despite their dour expression.

_Sentimental:_

It felt like something out of one of Lust’s sugar-sweet fairytale books, Envy thought dazedly as they stood there, arm awkwardly outstretched, and as Kimblee knelt before them, pale eyes staring up Envy’s arm, his lips lightly pressed to Envy’s hand.

_Throne:_

“There’s a place for you, I promise” they would say, grinning carelessly, but Kimblee already knew that his chances at being remembered were slim, that he was only one among many favoured people vying for power after the Promised Day—assuming that he survived at all, that is.

_Sea:_

His eyes weren’t blue enough for anything; they couldn’t be compared to the ocean (too pale) or the sky (they were almost grey—not nearly blue enough) or aquamarines, or sapphires, or anything, but they were distinctly  _Kimblee_ , and that was… good enough.

_Wander:_

He’d only be here for one day before going off to “fetch” Scar and Marcoh, so it only made sense that they’d drive around the town together, see the sights, reminisce, just for a little while.

_Myth:_

“Homunculi,” he murmured, “are theoretical, artificially created, fantastically powerful, astoundingly beautiful beings.”

_Season:_

He died, quickly and pointlessly, like all human deaths, and thus ended a season in Envy’s life, a small span of a very few events, a time that would never come again.


	14. Inconsistencies

“Tell me more about the Apocalypse.”

Kimblee’s face is blank, emotionless as it usually is, but Envy has learned by now to tell the differences between his expressions. That peculiar light is in his eyes, the same one that had lit up his face when Envy had first put the Philosopher’s Stone into his hand, and the same light that had been there when he’d first used it. The two of them had laughed for hours with the exhilaration, Kimblee experiencing the feeling of the Stone’s power for the first time, and Envy somehow having enough empathy to imagine what that must feel like, to feel that power coursing through your veins for the very first time.

Perhaps it’s foolish, and even disgusting, to feel this for a human, but Envy is...proud, that they are able to tell Kimblee’s excitement from his apathy. There are seldom few humans who can claim to understand Kimblee, and even those who think they can are only pretending, trying to be nice to the poor, lonely, Crimson Alchemist and pretending that they could understand what was going on in his unfathomable mind.

It feels good to be the only person who can really  understand what Kimblee thinks.

“Ah. The Apocalypse.” Envy grins, leaning back, legs crossed gracefully. “You mean the Promised Day.”

“Call it what you like,” says Kimblee, his mouth quirking ever-so-slightly. “It’s still the end of the world.”

“It’s not the end of the world,  _ silly _ .” Envy punches Kimblee’s shoulder lightly. “It’s the beginning of the world, the world as it’s supposed to be. No more humans, no more silly human quarrels or wars. Just everything as it should be, with Father on the throne of Amestris, and all of Us ruling by his side.”

“‘Us’ being…” Kimblee begins, leaning forward.

Envy shrugs. “My siblings and I. We were born for this, after all.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” Kimblee steeples his fingers, tapping them together thoughtfully. “But I’m curious. If all of the humans are gone…” He pauses his movement, looking Envy in the eye. “...who are you going to rule over?”

Envy… has wondered this before.

Father had never quite explained exactly  _ what _ would happen next, only that it inevitably  _ would _ happen, and that they were all to work towards it with diligence.

But that doesn’t matter. Envy will learn in due time.

“Oh, that’s easy!” says Envy, grinning carelessly. They reach over, patting Kimblee’s head. “You. I’ll rule over you. Hmm? How do you like that?”

Kimblee brushes Envy’s hand away, an eyebrow raised. “I’m a human.”

“You’re different.” Envy smiles sweetly, and puts their hand back. “You’re different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh so sorry for taking so long to update this... my creativity has been quite lacking lately. This was actually an old draft of my short story "Yours," when it was originally going to be a little bit longer. I didn't wind up writing the longer version, but I hope this stands on its own fairly well.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'm really honoured that so many people have enjoyed this story :D


	15. A Pause

They lie together on the Ishval sands one night, looking up at the stars. Envy's telling ridiculous stories about "long ago" and "back in Xerxes," and Kimblee doesn't believe a word because he knows that Envy's far from being that ancient, but he doesn't argue and just listens to the cadence of their voice, its smooth dark timbre the same colour as the night sky.

* * *

Kimblee thinks that the "monster" is interesting, or so he says, and he claims that the worm, too, is cute–"in a different way than you normally are, of course, but hardly disgusting, believe me"–and he has to be lying through his teeth, but Envy's dying to believe the lie for once.

* * *

Envy likes watching his face while he sleeps; he looks almost delicate in a way that they refuse to acknowledge when he is awake, black strands of hair falling across his forehead, dark eyelashes against his cheek, little, tiny details that they would miss during the day, now all obvious and apparent. Suddenly, he stirs, and slowly, his eyes start to open. Somehow Envy can't bear to see them, and inches closer, burying their head in his shoulder instead.

* * *

It's suddenly very silent, and all at once, Kimblee notices how small and forlorn Envy looks, perched there alone like a cat on the couch arm. Something almost like sympathy shoots through him like a bolt from the blue, and his book falls from his hand at the shock of it. "Well, come here, then, if you want to" he hears himself say, and witnesses Envy's almost-shy smile, and observes them falling against him, and his arms tightening of their own will around the slender figure.

* * *

"Read to me," Envy demands in that coaxing way, and Kimblee complies, as he always does. By now, Kimblee has puzzled out what Envy prefers to hear; their expression, it seems, is softest when the subject matter of his tales is at its most fanciful. Envy inches closer to him as the climax of the story approaches, and by the denouement, they are asleep, curled up against him. They'll be angry when they awaken–Kimblee knows from experience–but he feels no need to break the spell now, and stays very still, letting their head loll against his shoulder, noting the sound of their even breathing.

* * *

There isn't any scar now–the Philosopher's stone took care of that–but there would have been, and Envy can see it now, can feel it now as they brush shaking fingers against his neck. He's disgustingly weak, horribly disgustingly pathetically weak, he could have… he almost– "It's alright," he says softly, and Envy gasps (a gasp, definitely not an almost-sob) at the suddenness of his voice. Their hyperventilation threatens to develop into tears, and they hide their face in his shoulder so he won't see how disgustingly weak they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how short this was... I just really wanted to write something relatively fluffy and this was all that I could come up with for now. I hope you enjoyed; thank you so much and I again apologize for how short the chapter was!


	16. Questions

"Is this what you really look like, then?"

Envy shrugs, feet dancing over the Ishval sand. "Well, I can look like whatever you want me to. Just watch, Crimson; I'll show you—"

"No, no. I've seen you shift before." A thousand times, really; Envy never tires when it comes to trying to dazzle Kimblee with reality-bending stunts. While the process is fascinating, and while Kimblee wouldn't mind watching it, he isn't interested in watching that particular trick at the moment. "I mean, is this body  _your_  body? What's your unaltered state?"

Perhaps Kimblee's mistaken, but he notices a shadow, quick as anything, passes over Envy's face. But the flicker of a frown vanishes as fast as it had come, and Envy's smirk returns. "Funny that you're that eager to know. But, yes, it's the one I like the most. I came up with it more than a hundred years ago—I'll bet that it's hard for you to imagine that."

They so often underestimate him in such humorous ways—the span of a century is well within Kimblee's comprehension. But he won't tease them about that this time. "Interesting," he merely says, resting his face in his hand. " You designed it?"

"Yep." Envy grins, twirling around once. "Nice, isn't it? You like it, don't you?"

"Very," Kimblee replies dryly. But he's not quite satisfied. If it was a design, there surely must have been a predecessor to it… "But I wonder. Since you came up with it some time after you were born, you must have looked like something else before that, correct?"

Envy stops.

Oh dear. He's pushed the wrong buttons again…

"I don't want to talk about that." Envy's eyes have lost all of the mischief that they held before; they're cold, unreadable. "Talk about something else."

Well, he'd better placate them. "I'm sorry," Kimblee says, casually shifting position on the sand. "You know how I have to know everything about you; I suppose that I overstepped my boundaries. I'll talk about something else—but I'll need a minute to think of something interesting to say. Of course, nothing that I'd have to say is more interesting than your stories."

His words aren't even flattery; Envy would be able to tell if his words were less than genuine. Really, that's why he has to consider what he says so carefully; caution is the price that he has to pay for being able to while away the hours talking to a homunculus.

Envy's shoulders slump slightly; Kimblee's words seem to have alleviated their nervous tension. "You need to learn how to observe boundaries, Crimson," they say carelessly, sitting down next to him as if there had been no conflict. "But I'll forgive you this time."

"What a relief," Kimblee says lightly; he can tell that he's free to relax now.

He still wants to know about what Envy really looks like, and why they look the way they do, but now, he knows, is not the time for such questions. He'll bide his time, breaking down the barriers one piece at a time; he'll find out somehow, someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's so short I'm sorry... I have so much trouble writing them in the Ishval time period, but at the same time, it's an interesting time, when Kimblee's just trying to discover what makes Envy tick, so I have to get better at it! This was written for a tumblr prompt, for the phrase "I don't want to talk about it."
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	17. Taking Note

"When I die, I'll be… consoled, I suppose, by the fact that I'm the only one who will ever understand you."

It's dark in the prison cell; it's lit only by a lone torch in the hallway, and by a sliver of moonlight spilling in through the tiny window on the upper corner of the cell's back wall. It's hard to see Kimblee, but Envy fixes their glare upon what they can make out, on the pale blue eyes that shine in the dark. "Do you always have to start off that way?"

"What way?" He sounds amused–he knows very well what way, and it's cruel of him to purposely put them on edge.

"'When I die…' Like that. You don't need to start off like that."

"I'm trying to get you used to the idea," Kimblee says calmly, sitting up from where he's been lying on his wooden 'bed' that juts out from the wall. "Because that's probably one of the few things that worries me–what's going to happen to you after I do."

"You're a fool." Envy will never let him die; they need him too much for that to happen. But Envy says the words halfheartedly. "Anyway," they say casually, readjusting their position on the cold hard floor. "You don't know that much."

"Have you  _seen_  my notebooks? I know more than anybody else does."

Envy has seen them… if 'seen' is the right word for it. With that kind of detailed information that's contained in Kimblee's notebooks, Envy should have destroyed them long ago, or never allowed Kimblee to write it at all. But they were flattered at the time, that Kimblee would have such a scientific interest, and let him, and even encouraged him to write his observations down. Envy likes reading them now, where they stored them in Kimblee's house (somebody has to take care of the place, after all, until Kimblee's allowed to return there); it's the next-best thing to visiting him in person (or perhaps better; it's… difficult seeing him brought this low, at times).

The pages bring back memories of a better time. Envy enjoys seeing the straight lines in Kimblee's handwriting on the early pages, remembering the quiet, withdrawn, scientific young man who so cautiously asked them questions to sate his curiosity. They like even better the pages near the end, before he'd been arrested; they like the scrawling handwriting, and the nearly frantic, private outpourings of emotion, lacking the pretense of science that the earlier pages had assumed.

"I've seen them," Envy admits with a shrug, allowing a shadow of a grin to cross their face. "Fine. You know a lot. But not everything."

"It's impossible to know everything about you." In the dark, Envy sees Kimblee's smile match their own. "I know that I don't know everything," he says, "but I want to learn more. Someday I'll fully understand you."

"I doubt it." But they'd love it if he did. "Nobody else will ever come close, anyway. Not even my siblings, or even my father. Nobody else cares enough to try."

"Or, you never let anybody else."

"Maybe. But nobody else is worth letting in."

Kimblee just smiles in reply. His eyes look so beautiful when he smiles; it's something almost, but not quite, like the emotion in them that would appear after he'd heard a particularly satisfying answer to a question, years ago, in the midnight Ishvalan desert. Envy wishes that he'd smile more often. Envy, too, has things to learn about _him:_  what triggers the smiling, what makes him laugh… they have vague ideas about each, but never anything concrete, not like what Kimblee has down in his journals. Kimblee has Envy down to a science, and they'd… almost like to accomplish that as well, to have a notebook somewhere, with poems and observations and other nonsense that only Kimblee is allowed to read, and only he understands…

Of course, that idea will probably disappear from Envy's mind before they do anything about it. But it's a pleasant thought, even if it never develops beyond that.

"I'll understand you someday, too," Envy says suddenly. "Figure out what makes you tick."

"I'm flattered," says Kimblee, smiling again, "although you've really drawn most of it out already."

That can't be true. Of course, he's human, and Envy knows all about  _those;_  there's nothing unique to note down in the way that Kimblee dutifully took note of Envy's nature, and creation, and what keeps them alive, and other such boring details of their existence. But in terms of what makes Kimblee _himself…_

"Oh, you're too modest," Envy says, standing up from the prison floor, pressing a kiss to Kimblee's grimy forehead before they can convince themself not to. "There's so much more to you than what I know."

"Oh, my dear, you say the nicest things," says Kimblee laughingly, but Envy feels his face grow warmer, ever-so-slightly. Excellent. He likes those little compliments, being told that he's different, unique, unfathomable. Now Envy knows this for certain, and that's the first thing they'll write down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Tumblr prompt, this time for the phrase, "They may not understand you, but I do." I wanted to try out yet another AU... they're usually so in-denial for me, but I really did want to try out making them seem a little more in-love. I suppose each universe depends on how much they actually work out in Ishval, before Kimblee goes to prison (if he does); if Envy can get over their hatred of all human-kind (or at least accept Kimblee as an exception) early enough, then there's more chance for a happy ending, and they have worked out a lot of their issues already here--although, as they said, there's still a lot more for them to understand about each other, regardless of the universe it takes place in. Although this is different from the tone that I usually write in (at least to me), this is really what I wanted to write and to read--I hope that's not too off-putting!
> 
> Sorry for the long a/n; thank you so much for reading!


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